SuperWhoLock - The Demons take London
by GS Girl
Summary: When all of the Hunters in Britain are killed off by Moriarty who is actually a monster, demons & the most horrific creatures known to exist are free to do as they please. It's going to take a doctor, a high functioning sociopath, two brothers and companions to save the day. And if they cant . . . well, its better not to say. THIS IS GOING TO BE GOOD. I SWEAR!
1. Chapter 1

**Place - Britain ****Time - 4:46pm ****Year - 5/16/2014**

**"EVERY** **FAIRY** **TAIL** **NEEDS** **A** **GOOD** **OLD** **FASHION** **VILLAIN**." Moriarty smiles mischievously and looks up at Sherlock standing before him. "You need me or your nothing. Cause we're just alike you and I. Except your boring." The man shakes his head disappointingly he whispers, "And . . . your on the side of the angels."

"Got to the jury of corse." Sherlock points out. He takes a seat in a white leather arm chair across from Moriarty and take a sip of his tea.

"Got into the tower of London." scoffs Moriarty, "You think I can't worm my into twelve pitiful hotel rooms?"

A thought occurs to Sherlock and he stops stirring his tea places his spoon on his saucer plate. "The cable networks."

"Every bedroom has a personalized TV screen," explains the mad man. "And every person has their pressure point . . . a person they want to protect." He takes a sip of his coffee. "Easy peasy."

"How are you going to do it? " Asks Sherlock. "Burn me?"

"Oh that's the problem. The Final Problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Sherlock freezes "What's the final problem? I did tell you. But did you listen?" Sherlock returns his cup to its saucer and gets a distant look in his eyes.

"How hard do you find it? Having to say, _"I don't know."_?"

"I don't know."

Moriarty gives a small quick laugh. "Oh that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything."

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously." deadpans Sherlock.

"Off you go then."

"You want me to tell you what you already know." Sherlock quips.

"No, I want you to prove that you know it."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good."

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

"Very good. Because..." pushes Moriarty.

"Because nothing—nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could match the value of the key that could get you in to all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I own secrecy. Nuclear codes. I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should see me in a crown."

"You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping. Big client list. Rogue governments. Intelligence communities. Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex."

"You could break any bank. What do you care about the highest bidder?" questions Sherlock now intrigued.

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. _"Daddy loves me the best!"_. Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well you know. You've got John. I should get myself a live-in one."

Sherlock frowns and his eyes squint the smallest amount. "Why are you doing all of this? You don't want money or power, not really. What is it all for?"

"I want to solve the problem. Our problem. The Final Problem. It's going to start very soon, Sherlock. The Fall. The monsters are coming Sherlock. Hells worst creations. And know what?" he pauses for dramatic effect, "Theres no one here to stop me. Not you not the police. Britians not like other places; it has no rules for creations like us." Moriarty smiles and takes a sip of his tea. "But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination."

Sherlock jumps up and quietly scoffs. "Never liked riddles."

"Learn to." Sneers Moriarty who gets up slowly. "Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock." He looks into his brown eyes and smiles sinisterly. "I. O. U."

And on that note the Napoleon of crimes vanishes as fast as a synapse. But not before taking a small bow in the frame of the doorway.

Sherlock stares at the spot where the man once stood with his lips pursed and brow furrowed. A churning feeling forms in the young detectives gut. A feeling of dread, fear, and apprehension towards the days to come.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Dean. Check this out."

Dean finishes reading the artical about an aparent suicide halfway across the country and gives his brother part of his attention. Sam turns up the volume of the hotel television.

_"Within the past week Britian has seen a stagering number of criminal activity. Starting with the break in at the Tower of London, Britian has admitted to several other events involving government security." _The anchorman turns the camera over to a different reporter.

_"It started at the Tower of London when a member of a tour group vandilized the great room. Several historical artifacts were damaged and the building has temporarily closed all tours. Multiple other cases have of nationwide securety have been addmited by the government including roberies, hostage situations, and computer security. The UK police force is doing everything in her power to stop these chains of events. . . "_

"Crazy hugh?"

Dean shakes his head. "Humans man. Im telling you. They'er crazy. You know, with our, our usual playmates there's, there's rules, there's patterns, but with people... there's just crazy."

Sam nods in agreements. He sighs and gets up off of the brown bed. "Hey man I'm going to go get us dinner. Chineese?"

"Ya. Sure. Whatever." Dean mutters glued to computer.

Sam exits the hotel room and leaves Dean to his work. Several minutes pass with Dean still using the computer. He takes another swig of his drink but sighs. He turns the bottle upside down and only a drop falls out. Dean grumbles under his breath and walks over to the other side of the room to the mini fridge to grab another. He pops the top by using the edge of the fridge and the drink fizzes as carbonation escapes the cold wet glass.

Dean takes a swig of his Corona as he turns back around and finds Castiel standing not two feet away. He chokes on his beer. "God! Dont! Do that!" he yells more startled than angery. He shakes his head as he recovers from the scare.

"Hello Dean." Castel says in a deep raspy voice.

Dean shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink and brushes past Castel.

Castel looks around the room with a confused. "Wheres Sam?"

"Out getting dinner. Dean says matter-o-factly. Castiel stand in the center of the room and looks around. His long drench coat hangs on his frame and his black tie is tied crokedly around hin neck. He takes a seat on the end of Sams bed and stares at the wall.

"So. . . whats up?"

Castiel turns to Dean and frowns with his eyebrows scrunched. "Heaven."

Dean rolls his eyes exasperated. "No dude. . . why are you here?"

"The United Kingdom need our help."

Dean shakes his head. "Excuse me?"

"The United Kingdom needs - "

"I heard you the first time!" retorts Dean. "I ment . . . why? Why do we have to go all the way to Great Britian? Hell! How come the British hunters cant hadel it?"

Castel frowns somberly. "There aren't any hunters in Great Britain Dean. They've all been . . . exterminated."

Dean let's what Castiel said sink in. "All of them?"

Castiel looks at the floor downcast. "The creature came durring the night and killed every one of them all in a few short hours." Castile looks up at Dean wwith dark gloomy eyes. "They never stood a chance."

Dean stand dead still for several moments and Castiel watches him sullenly. The room is completly quiet. Somewhere outside a train can be heard of in the distance.

"SHIT!" Dean whips his Corona at the wall and it shatters into a million little peices. Shards of glass fly across the room and Castel looks at Dean startled at his sudden outbreak. "SHIT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME CASS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!" Dean screams at the angel. Castel jumps up and backs away from Dean who storms up to him pissed.

"Why are you yelling at me?" he deadpans.

"WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU?! WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!" Castile searches Deans face with his dark brown eyes. Deans chin trembles and he purses his lips. He lets out a deep shakey breath and shakes his head befor slowly turning away. Several moments pass.

"I am . . . sorry Dean. There was nothing that could have been done. The angels hae been talking. They they had no knowleage of the creature. They say it is one of the few creatures that we can not sence." Castiel pauses.

Dean shakes his head thoughtfully. "Ya . . . me too man. Me too."

The clock strikes eight.

Dean spins back around and faces his face is Allen but determined. "Ok so who's the son of bitch that we'er going to be taking down this time?"

Castiel looks at Dean with a stone cold face. "He calls himself Moriarty."


	3. Chapter 3

"I still can't believe you would rather take an eight-hour plane flight to London than have Castile teleport you." Laughs Sam quietly to Dean who is pinned to his chair in fright. Dean grumbles under his breath and gives his brother an irritated look. Sam goes back to reading his book. Its well past nine and the two brothers are almost to the Heathrow airport. They got on the plane at four, after creating three hours creating fraudulent passports, and so far the four-hour flight had been quiet.

"At least this time there isn't a demon on the plane." kids Sam optimistically in attempt to comfort his brother. Dean grabs the arms of his chair and hums Metallic loudly in his head. The plane rumbles violently and Deans grasp tightens. "Ya well. . . to be honest, I could go for a demon right about now. At least it would give us something to do." Sam gives his brother a 'seriously?' look and Dean shrugs his shoulders, "Ok maybe not really but you know what I mean."

Castile tips his head to the side and frowns; his eyebrows pull up and he gets a distant look in his eyes. He looks to the back end of the plane puzzled. Dean take note of Cases puzzlement and almost to afraid to ask he says "Cas? Whats wrong?"

Castile pauses for a moment and shakes his head slowly. "Nothing." he says, "Never mind. It's just the engine." Dean looks at Cass, then to the back of the plane, then back at the angel. He shakes his head and tries to dismiss what Castile just said as a weird "angle" thing. Dean sits back in his chair. "Ok so how much longer do we have till we're in London?"

Sam checks his watch. 'About an hour."

"Ok so untill then we should spend the rest of our time on our flight trying to figure out what we're hunting and how to kill it."

Sam nods and pulls out their fathers Journal. He flips through the yellow pages in search of something in particular. "Actually, I think what we're after is in here." He finds what he's looking for and hands the opened journal to Dean and Cass. Look at this," Sam points to a rough pencil sketch of a face of a man. He has dark eyes, straight black hair wich is slicked back, and very little stubble on his; chin, sideburns, and upper lip. "This is Loki. Demigod of Scandinavian. Dad ran into him once."

"Ok so how do we bring down this son of a bitch?" pushed Dean anxiously.

Castile traces his finger over a line in the book and reads out loud, "We have to get a stake dipped in the blood of its victim and stab the creature. Sounds easy enough."

Suddenly the plane lurches and goes into a nosedive. Oxygen masks fall from above and the people scream as they expect the worst. Dean swears loudly. Castile grabs a hold of the two men on his left and to his right and is just about to teleport them off of the plane when he hesitates. He takes his hands of their shoulders and turns around. Two passengers sprint down the hallway and hurriedly make their way to the front of the plane. Castile frowns and without a word, he buckles from his seat and follows the three other passengers.

Sam and Dean ask Cass where he's going but he does not respond. "Jesus christ," Dean and Sam get up from their seats and stumble off after Castile who they find standing behind the heavy cockpit door. "Cass what the hells going on?" shouts dean over the sound of a hundred people screaming. The plane evens out slightly but continues to rapidly descend. Slowly Castile pulls back the unlocked cockpit door and the boys walk in. Inside red warning lights flash brightly and several alarms make strange wining noises. The uniformed pilots are unconscious in their seats and behind them stand the two passengers from before.

Standing to the left is a man with dark brown hair wearing a brown suite. To the right stands a girl in her mid twenties wearing a long navy blue jacket. She too, has dark brown hair. The middle aged man frantically flips switches on the control board; its evident that he's panicking. "Doctor! Please tell me that you know how to fly." yells the female. The man continues to fiddle with the switches and buttons. The plane breaks through a barrier of clouds and suddenly Sam, Dean, and Castiel can see the city lights of Great Britain down below.

"Whats going on! Is this real?! Please tell me what is going on!" screams the girl. The so-called doctor laughs nervously and pulls out a long skinny device from his coat pocket. He points it at the counsel and it lights up while making a 'whirring' sound. The plane rumbles and Sam, Dean, and Cass are knocked off of their feet. The Doctor points the object in his hand at several other devises. "I'm the doctor." says the man, "I'm an alien from outer space. I'm a thousand years old, I have two hearts AND I CANT FLY A PLANE! CAN YOU?!"

"NO!"

"Oh fine then lets do it together!" he says with a laugh.

The plane shakes once again and the three Hunters in the back are sent crashing into the doctor his companion. "Oi!" yells the doctor startled, "What are you doing in here!" He looks between Dean, Sam, and Castile bewildered. Dean smiles and begins to explains but the doctor interrupts him before he can begin. "Never mind it doesn't matter," he jumps up to his feet and continues pointing his device at the control panel. A small beep comes from his tool and he smiles. "What matters is this." The doctor grabs the lever he just scanned and pulls it down with a forceful determination.

The plane stabilizes itself only a few hundred yards before it crashes into Big Ben.

The girl sighs relieved and leans up against the wall for support. The doctor turns back around to the three males with a smug and cheeky smile on his face. He flips the electronic tool in his hand and slips it into his coat pocket. His big brown eyes shine with happiness and he smiles, "Sorry. What did you say your names were?"


	4. Chapter 4

After putting the plane on auto pilot, the Doctor holds his hand out to Castile who stands in front of Dean & Sam. He smiles a goofy smile a glances from his hand to Castile, "Come on now! It's a hand! Shake it!" Castile looks at the cheery man with a scowl plastered across his face and eventually puts his hand in the strangers.

As soon as their hands touch the Doctors brown eyes roll up into the back of his head and his body goes limp. He drops to the floor like a sack of flour completely unconscious. The Doctors companion rushes to his side and Dean grabs her by her arm and holds her back. She yells at Dean and tries to break free but the man is too strong. She looks at Castile and yells, "What. . . what did you do to him?!". Cass taps her on her forehead and she passes out cold in Deans arms.

Sam sighs and rubs his head. "Cass. Was that really necessary?"

Castile frowns. "This creäture is not of this planet. I sense that his origins are to a place very far away Dean."

Dean fishes the long skinny metal device out of the Doctors coat pocket and holds so his brother can see. "What this?" Dean presses a button on the side of the device and the phone Sam holds in his hand explodes. Sam & Dean both recoil in shock and Dean drops the alien device. It lands on the carpeted floor with a "thump".

"Dean. Lets not play with the aliens toys. Ok?"

Dean nods his head. "Ya. Ok."

Sam rolls the Doctor over onto his back. His brown hair hangs to the right side of his bony pale face. He wears a brown coat over close-cropped black pants with red suspenders. A red bow-tie is tied neatly around the collar of his white dress shirt.

"To much for you Sammy?"

Sam shakes his head. "no, it's just . . . I wasn't expecting an alien to look so . . . human."

"What they look like doesn't matter. Cass? Can you take them to a hotel room in London and take them there? We'll meet you there as soon as we can."

Cas nods and then vanishes. Two minutes later he reappears, "Meet me at 629 Crawford street Wilmington. Theres a flat there we can use."

"Great job Cass." Applauds Dean who at the same time hands the brown haired girl to him, "We'll see you soon."

Cass disappears and less than a minute later he reappears only to collect the Doctor and two pairs of hand cuffs from Dean. He spares Sam and Dean one last glance before leaving once again.

Silence then:

"Did you just pull those handcuffs out of your coat pocket?" asks sam.

Dean smirks slyly. "It's good to be ready."

Sam laughs disbelieving. "For what?"

Dean shrugs and Sam sighs before following his brother back to their seat.

* * *

Sam & Dean walk down the apartment hallway and stop when they find room 629. Dean pounds on the door exhausted and rubs the dark shadows that have formed under the young hunters eyes.

Castile opens the door. "Dean."

"Hey Cass." yawns Dean as he walks into the apartment. Sam and Dean drop their luggage in the middle of the room and collapse on the sofa and recliner. They moan with pleasure as their bodies sink into the plush leather.

Castile clears his throat. "Uh Dean." Dean does not respond. "Dean, I think you need to hear this. Dean?"

The eldest of the hunters is asleep on the couch. Castile frowns blatantly at Dean and sighs. "I guess I just wait here then." And that's how Castile spent the rest of the night; standing.

* * *

When the Doctor wakes the first thing that comes to his mind is how incredibly terrible he feels; his libs are achy and his head feels fuzzy like he only has one heart. Quietly, he rises to a sitting position. The stiff queen sized bed that he's lying on squeaks in complaint. He looks around as his vision begins to clear and takes note of the room that he is in.

The bedroom - which the doctor figured by the two beds - was ordinary. Nothing special about it. The far wall on his right leads to a balcony overlooking a busy city and to his left was a divider wall that separated the bedroom from another separate room. Outside there's a busy motorway. The balcony door is open and a cool morning breeze ruffles the red curtains. Other than the two beds, there's a small circular table with two chairs, a dresser with a telly on top, and a lamp on top of the nightstand in between the two beds.

The Doctor attempts to stand up but he finds his right hand bound to the large metal headboard by a pair shiny, silver handcuffs. The young british man reaches for his sonic screwdriver in his coat pocket and freezes when he finds it absent. His eyes widen and dart back to the handcuffs. He grabs the handcuff and tugs at the restraining contraption but to his dismay they fulfill their purpose. The metal chains jingle and The Doctor gives up; his brown moppy hair flops in his face and he scans the room with observant eyes.

The sound of a door opening catches the Doctors attention. He stands up beside the bed and waited for his captors to enter. Dean walks in first followed by Sam and then Cass.

"Well look who's up!" exclaims the young man with the short cut blond hair. "Have a nice nap freak?" he taunts.

Now, the Doctors not a very "judgy" person. He always did his best to get to know a human or alien before making any final judgment calls. But right off the bat he did not like this young man. He could feel it in his gut that this was a man of war and violence. Bloody hell it takes on to know one. But unlike himself, the boy standing before The Doctor was a person who would shoot first and then ask questions. This was a man who would kill without second thought.

The Doctor scowl and looks between the three men. Then he smirks. "You know," he says matter of factly "I've been locked up in a cage before. Many of time in fact. The best of the best have locked me up and thrown away the key. And know what?" The Doctor asks "Here I am."

Dean laughs and points up to the ceiling. The Doctor looks up to the spot directly over his head. Painted in red is a circular symbol about five feet across. "Your not going anywhere chuckles." Says Dean. Cass takes two different burlap sacks and dumps the contents in front of the door, window, and floor vent. The first substance The Doctor instantly recognizes as sodium chloride. The second is rusty red and looks like chips of metal. "Your not getting out of this room."

"Oh stars of Gallefrey!" Exclaims the Doctor. "Save your toys boys! I'm not a demon! I'm an alien! Your salt and iron shavings aren't going to have much effect on me."

Sam and Dean exchange a brief glance. Sam steps toward the Doctor, "If you're an alien why do you look so . . . human?" he asks.

The Doctor scoffs, "You humans. Always so picky about others appearances." He shakes his head disapprovingly. Something occurs to the Doctor and his eyes darken.

"Where's Clara?" The Doctor demands. He glares at the hunters who are slightly taken back by the aliens change in demeanor. "What have you done with her?"

"No we're asking the questions here E.T." says Dean as he takes a seat next to The Doctor. "Then we'll tell you where she is."

The Doctor twists his lips. "Fine." he snaps sharply.

Sam drags two chairs across the carpeted red floor. He hands one to The Doctor and takes the other for himself. "Ok," he starts "why were you on that plane?"

The Doctor takes a seat in the chair Sam offered him. "I was there because that's where my ship took me." he says blatantly.

"Took you?" repeats Dean. "What? You can't fly your own ship?"

"Dean . . . " says Sam.

"What! I'm just asking." protests Dean.

The Doctor looks at the two boys and smirks. "Are you two brothers?" he asks.

Sam nods. "Ya. I'm Sam. This is Dean; my older brother." Sam turns around & points at Castile. "And that's Cass. He's just a friends."

The Doctor nods his head. "I see. Well Sam Dean and . . . Cass. Yes. I can fly my ship. But she desired to fly herself today. She was flying and then suddenly we hit this - dead zone - and we're falling. I did my best to land her . . . I just had no idea I had ended up landing on a plane."

"And where's this so-called ship now?" pushes Dean. Sam has stopped talking and now ponders about something quietly to himself.

The doctor frowns. "Still on the ship I suppose. But that's ok. It'll come back eventually."

"So," Dean laughs, "let me get this straight. You just happen to have your own personal USS Enterprise that you fly around?"

"...haha! Star Trek! Oh I always found thoughts movies funny. I mean come on!" scoffs The Doctor, "they have transporters, phases, and starships but they still need an earpiece microphone! Classic human production! So comical . . . "

Castile chuckles quietly in the corner of the room and the Doctor smiles. Dean sheaths in his seat and glares daggers at the alien; not happy that the alien from outer space just ripped on Star Trek.

Sam looks at The Doctor with a confused expression on his face. "You talk about your ship like it's a . . . "

"Living thing?" finishes The Doctor. Sam nods. "Well it is."

"So what are your plans?" Pushes Dean forcefully. "What do you want? Ya want a tribute or sacrifice or something?"

"Tribute?" The Doctor Stammers. "Why would I want a Tribute? And why on earth would I want someone to die in my name?"

Sam, Dean, and Cass look at each other confused. "Wait. . . soooo you don't want to take over the Earth?" Asks Dean cautiously.

"Of corse not!" The Doctor laughs. "You hu-mans are incredible! A little closed-minded but still much friendlier than most of the aliens ive meet."

"Wait! There are other species out there?"

"Millions! Trillions even. And each one is more spectacular than the rest . . . well no . . . not all of em' . . . most of em' . . . ya . . . most of em'."

Sam sits back in his seat completely blown away. He smiles in awe and shakes his head.

"And you said your from . . . Gallafrey was it?"

The Doctor smiles a sad sort of smile. He sits back in his chair and sighs tiredly. "Yes. Gallafrey. My home."

Dean sits foward in his seat. "Good. If this Gallafrey place is your home why don't you just go back to where you came from and leave us to our humanely business."

"I can't."

"And why the hell not?"

The Doctor shakes his head and looks down at the floor. "Because it was destroyed."

The room falls silent.

"Awkward" whispers Dean.

"Yes well. . . It happened a long time ago. I've had a long time to . . . adjust."

The Winchester boys look at each other. Sam sighs. "Clara's in the kitchen. She woke up several minutes before you." Dean pulls a set of keys out of his coat pocket. "Let me unlock you handcuffs."

The Doctor smiles slyly. "You mean these handcuffs?" he says as he holds up the metal handcuffs.

Sam, Dean, and Cass stare at The Doctor shocked. Then Dean begins to laughs. He nods his head approvingly. "Now there's a trick that would come in handy in bed!" he laughs.

The doctors ears turn bright red and Sam shakes his head embarrassed. Cass tilts his head to the side. "I don't understand that references."


End file.
